Light
by Jenner-The-Pirate
Summary: Jaime hadn't felt this kind of elation in years. Perhaps in all his years. He could scarcely remember feeling so content and happy. Had he truly never know joy until this moment? Set during 8.04 during the Winterfell feast Jaime starts to come to grips with his growing honorable and not-so-honorable feelings for a certain Lady Knight.


So I haven't written any fanfiction in several years. School, life etc, butI have fallen into a PIT with this season of Game of Thrones. Honestly, I was so happy with episodes 1-3, then 4-6 just completely blindsided me. I wasn't so surprised with a lot of the endings per say, but how we arrived at what the endgame was. Complete disregard for character growth and doing 90% of important conversations as cut aways. Not a fan. Oh well that's what fanfiction is for right? This is Jaime's POV for the Winterfell feast from 8.04. They did my boy dirty by turning him into a major fuckboi. That's not who Jaime is. His POV chapters always stress how much he takes love and matters of the heart and courting seriously. Idk. I just had to give it some context.

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Jaime hadn't felt this kind of elation in years. Perhaps in all his years. He could scarcely remember feeling so content and happy. Had he truly never know joy until this moment? If Jaime had asked himself this question just a few weeks ago he would swear he had. He was sure he had been happy in King's Landing. He had been happy in his stolen forbidden moments in Cersei's embrace. He would have been sure there was no better feeling than her lips on his. He never felt more himself than when his cock was deep inside her cunt. He would have been sure….

But now he wasn't.

What an odd place for him to come to this realization. The Winterfell feasting hall was bursting with men and women celebrating their survival of The Long Night. They were all doing a commendable job forgetting that the occupancy level of Winterfell had been cut in half. The Northerners shut up in the feasting hall had banished from their thoughts the bodies of fallen kin and comrades smoldering in the snow. They had all but forgotten the ashes swirling about in the snow drifts, combining to make a pale gray sleet that darkened the castle both figuratively and literally.

Jaime hadn't forgotten. He'd seen enough battle and war to know that the fallen deserved to be remembered longer than a night.

Yet Jaime was happy as any of them. He was also quite deep into his cups. Though he knew that only aided his happiness, not created it.

The true causes of his joy were seated around him in the hall. Tyrion his face bright with impish glee. Podrick with his shit-eating grin firmly in place. Pod silently observed the antics around him while drinking twice as fast as any of the rest. Brienne sat across from him smiling, the candlelight flickering over her freckled skin. Her sapphire eyes shining with mirth despite the deep purple bruise that bloomed over the right side of her face.

_Brienne…_

He was alive and a drunk on happiness as well wine.

Tyrion gave a drunk grunt to his right. Jaime cocked his head down toward his brother.

"Your turn." Tyrion slurred looking up at him with his mismatched eyes.

Jaime turned his head back toward Brienne.

_Brienne…_

Her smile seemed to reach inside him. Shining all the light of the suns and moons of her house sigil into his dark soul. Burning out all of the feelings and thoughts that weren't of pure contentment.

He fixed her with one of his wicked smiles. He pointed one of his fingers at her.

"You are an only child." Jaime said in mischievous edge to his voice.

Brienne's eyebrows raised in a slight question.

"I told you I was-" she began in a slight affronted tone before he cut her off.

"You didn't," he countered promptly. As if he was blocking one of her strong blows in the training yard.

"I did!" she exclaimed earnestly. Her big blue eyes widening with playful indignation.

Jaime could look into her eyes forever he thought. He could see in his mind's eye her brilliant blue orbs widened with shock over and over again. When she first saw him at Winterfell. When he asked to serve under her. When he asked her to kneel in front of him to give her the Knighthood she deserved more than any man in Westeros. When he pulled her close and held her after the dead collapsed.

His imagination took hold, thinking of things that had not happened outside his head. How big would her eye get if he pulled her into a kiss. How her sapphire orbs would be as round as the jewels themselves as he slipped his good hand into her breeches in search of a different kind of jewel. If she could manage to keep her eyes open at all or if they would snap shut in ecstasy as he drove his cock inside her.

He broke their eye contact and glanced at Tyrion to end the thoughts that were flooding into him.

Perhaps he was deeper into his cups than he realized.

"I surmised," he said. His voice coming out smooth and even in an attempt to hid his lusty thoughts.

"Drink!" Tyrion chortled. His little brother was in his element now. Spreading debauchery and merriment with drink and games. Father would be mortified. _So would Cersei…_ The thought came unbidden and he banished it from him. He was getting better at not thinking of her. Her shadow wouldn't steal his happiness away tonight. Not when he was surrounded by all this goodness and light. The light the bond that held them all together. That held him to Brienne.

Brienne began taking a deep gulp out of her goblet. Jaime could see her throat bobbing as she swallowed down the wine. He was mesmerized. The way the candle light played with the shadows on her throat as it moved. The pale white scars left there by the bear seemed to glitter. The wine was staining her lips a deep ruby red. He felt himself swallow as his cock began to stiffen. Brought to life by the thought of being near those lips. Her throat bobbing with his cock thrusting inside her hot, wet mouth, staining her lips with his seed instead of wine.

"Go again!" ordered Tyrion. His voice slashing through Jaime's indecent thoughts like a sword.

Jaime tried to think of something to say. His mind was working pitifully slow due to the blood rushing through him straight to his cock. Luckily he was gifted extra time to come up with an inquiry by the lady bewitching his thoughts.

"Why does he get to go again?" Brienne whined.

"Cuz' it's my game." Tyrion said in a tone that made it clear there was no point in arguing.

Jaime's eyes flitted from Brienne's disgruntled face to Pod's. Pod had been telling him stories earlier…

"You have danced with Renly Baratheon." Jaime said. His speech hitching on Renly's name. He knew that Brienne had harbored feelings for Renly at one point. How odd to think of that. It make the blood coursing through him boil even hotter with the fuel of jealous anger. His breeches were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He rocked back and forth to try and find a bit of relief for his swelling cock, but the laces digging into the firm flesh just sent sparks of white hot desire through him. Damn it.

Trust him to blight his memory of tonight by letting his impure desires take him away from enjoying the company around him. He shifted again on the bench and tried to focus in on the game again.

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" Brienne's victorious voice called his attention back to her. He wasn't sure what Tyrion had asked, but due to her words and the dwarf taking a swig from his goblet it hadn't been correct.

"You were married," Brienne said with a slight quirk of her lips. Jaime thought it was fucking adorable. "Before Sansa."

"Drink!" Cried Jaime. Tyrion gave him a put upon look before dutifully returning to his goblet. Jaime swung his head back toward Brienne, to see if she was still smiling.

She was. He felt a pull at his chest instead of his cock this time. _Gods… _How long had he been feeling this way toward her? It seemed sudden, but when he thought it had been a long while. He remembered his cock twitching beneath the bathwater in Harrenhal. She'd cared for him there. In his most vulnerable of times.

Had it really been that fucking long? Jaime supposed it had. He'd never really indulged himself to think to deeply about affections of anyone other than Cersei in those days… _Stop. Stop it. _

"You're drinking wine but you prefer ale!" Brienne shouted confidently. She seemed to sway in her seat a little. Perhaps she was a little in her cups too.

"NO!" Tyrion boomed. Smug smile lit up his face with a fierceness glint of mischievousness. Brienne giggled as she raised the goblet again to drink.

Jaime thought she looked beautiful. Not in the traditional way no. Objectively he knew that singers would never sing of her beauty, but they were certainly missing out on great material. Her smile stretched the scars along her cheek. Her bland features were made exquisite by the emotions that played over her usually reserved face. It shone with light and peace. She was content to be there with them. With him. They could just be. His cock gave another dull throb of want.

Their eyes met again. He smiled at her as best he could without giving away his lewd thoughts. The look she gave him was so open and honest he wanted to burn it into his heart forever. He had never been looked at like that.

"You're a virgin," Tyrion said. His voice drained of any mirth or glee. It was utterly serious.

All of the light went out of Brienne's face. Shutters seemed to snap closed behind her astonishing eyes filling them in cold darkness, blocking him out. Her smile crashed down and seemed to shatter like a glass goblet. He could almost hear her heart stop.

_The gods damn Tyrion and his mouth. _How fucking dare he snuff out the happy glow on Brienne's face. The light twinkling in her eyes.

All of his hot desire seemed to turn to ice with his now overwhelming concern for her feelings. Jaime tried to think of something to say. He felt himself mumble words that Tyrion ignored driving the point home that Brienne was a virgin. _For the sake of the fucking seven. _People called her The Maid of Tarth. Surely that meant required being a virgin. What was Tyrion fucking playing at.

The seven help him from murdering Tyrion here and now.

Brienne looked at him. He wasn't sure what she was thinking anymore. The connection between them forged in happiness and light had been cut and now only dark clouds of uncertainty were perceptible to him.

He was going to strangle Tyrion.

The bench scraped against the stone floor as Brienne stood.

"I have to piss," she stated flatly.

_No. _Thought Jaime. _No don't go like this. _He didn't know what to say to her though. He knew with her pride ruined she would want a quiet exit from the hall. He looked down at his brother, trying to convey to him with his eyes what a fucking moron he was. He hoped that would help Brienne escape unnoticed. He would go to her in the morning… Try and cheer her up. Get her to smile again.

"We did it! We faced those icy fucks.."

Jaime swirled around. The wildling. The fucking wildling. He was prattling on about the battle against the dead. He was staring at Brienne like sailors seeing the shore for the first time in months. Sailors whose first stop ashore would be a brothel.

Jaime's rage suddenly swung in a new direction. Jealousy seemed to pass through his body faster than wildfire.

He had no right to feel that way he knew. Brienne was a Knight for gods sake! She could choose to take however many, or few lovers as she wanted.

It still made his gut clench with dread at the thought of that wildling trying to touch Brienne. He was spewing vulgarities not suitable for a highborn lady to hear in front her, though he'd know she'd heard worse around soldiers. He wanted to crack him across the face with his gold hand anyway. To shut him up and to keep him from leering at her with his wolfish grin.

"Please pardon me for a moment," she pushed passed him. The wildling made to follow her.

_No. _Jaime thought shooting to his feet. Brienne had left and didn't want the wildling following her. Jaime wasn't going to let him. His wild beard was matted and had tracks of ale running through it. _No. _Jaime thought again. This miserable shit wasn't going anywhere near his lady when she made it clear he wasn't welcome.

The wildling followed her retreat from the room then stared into his eyes with a challenge that clearly said, _if you want her go get her. _

So he did.

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Hopefully I captured a little bit of the subtext I was feeling. I hope you guys enjoyed. I was thinking of writing a few more. Maybe of when Jaime knights Brienne or the actual bang. Let me know what you think. Thank you for reading. 3


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